dammit
one of my projects in a fancy Park Ave apartment was a full gut- everything out down to building structure.
this was a steel framed/concrete slab building from around 1920. interior walls are terra cotta block and subfloor is typically tinder/gravel fill between wood sleepers on top of the building slab, or where the wet spaces are- topping slab. the apartment I was renovating had been owned by the same family since the building was built and had been completely untouched... kind of a time capsule, which is rare in my line of work where luxury apartments and townhouses generally sell frequently and get renovated as frequently, leaving no trace of the original architecture and infrastructure.
after demo is complete, I get a call from the GC that the project has been shut down and asks me to come to the site immediately. WTF!? we're on a super tight schedule provided by the building- every day lost screws us. I get there, and without saying anything walks me to where one of the bathrooms had been and points down.
what I saw- took me a moment to see what
the issue was.
it was small- but could have been a kid's vertebrae.... and would've been there since the early part of the century. we had to shut it down and call the police, who called the medical examiner to confirm. small animal. likely fell into one of the gravel yards where they got aggregate for their concrete back in the day.
now I'm imagining some chucklehead concrete mason dumping a fake body into the concrete while giggling to his friends about the next contractor to work on the apartment.